Driven Under
by alwayswriting
Summary: Faith story with a twist


Driven Under

The day Sonny Corinthos sent his enforcer to kill your husband, you were huddled in the corner of your bedroom. Your lacy black lingerie barely covered the bruises; it seemed like nothing could cover them anymore. In your hands, you held the gun. You were shaking and at the same time almost laughing, that someone like you had never fired a gun before until now. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

On the bed laid your dead husband. One shot to the back of the head. He made the mistake of turning around. He made the mistake of slapping you around one too many times. He made the mistake of marrying you.

You wondered what time it was, but you were afraid to move. The window was too far away and the clock was on the other side of your dead husband. Your mouth was asking for a glass of water, but you ignored it. You imagined your dead husband suddenly coming back to life as if he was playing dead the entire time.

You heard the creak of the bedroom door opening. Did one of the guards hear the gun fire? You held your breath and peeked over the bed. A dark shadow came into the room. Whoever it was saw the body on the bed. There was no reaction. The figure approached the bed, wanting to inspect it a little closer, and that was when you were spotted.

"I—I shot him," you managed to say.

The shadow materialized into a face. You recognized him as Sonny Corinthos's enforcer, Jason Morgan. You saw that he also had a gun in his hands. 

"What happened?" he asked.

"He hit me," you said. He looked at your face. There was probably a black eye forming. "And I fought back."

"Give me the gun, Mrs. Roscoe," he said.

You held the gun even tighter. "No."

"Let me take care of this," he said. He was so calm; he almost sounded cold and unfeeling.

"Were you here to kill my husband?" you asked.

He glanced at the bed and nodded.

"Well, I just did it for you," you said. Then, you started to cry. There were not tears of sadness or remorse. They were the beginning of your hysteria. 

_Do you think I'm faking_

_when I'm lying next to you?_

_Do you think that I am blind_

_nothing left for me to lose?_

_Must be something on your mind_

_something lost and left behind _

_Do you know I'm faking now?_

You told him about the secret passageway that was unguarded, that lead to the Port Charles River. You wondered if you should thank Corinthos's enforcer for getting rid of the body, for not hurting you, for letting you be able to move. But you keep silent and head to the bathroom to clean up. You heard the door close and you finally let out a sigh of relief.

The next day, you heard that your husband's body was found floating down the river with a bullet in his head. You pretended to be shocked and upset. But only one other person knew the truth.

_We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face_

_I need you. I breathe you._

_I can't go through this all again_.

You began to ask yourself why Jason Morgan didn't kill you. You began to look for him to help you answer that question. And one night on the docks, you found what you were looking for.

"You shouldn't be talking to me, Mrs. Roscoe," he said.

"I just want to ask you one question," you said. He waited for you to continue. "Why didn't you get rid of me?"

"You weren't there," he said. His blue eyes are almost as icy as yours. "And neither was I. I don't know who killed your husband."

You knew what game he was playing. You invented it.

_Then she told me she had a gun_

_it sounded like she'd used it once before_

You waited for him, but he never came again. He left town and came back. He left town and this time it seemed longer. You wasted your time picking up where your husband left off: signing papers, taking care of business deals, meeting with the men in dark suits. You think that someday you would be sitting with the Five Families.

Then, you heard the news that he had come back again. You waited for him and still he did not come. Sammy Tagaliti suggested revenge against Sonny Corinthos. "For your husband's murder," he said. You wasted more time with Ned Quartermaine. You heard that he had been a Quartermaine once. You moved on to Ric Lansing and you clung on to him. You wanted him to see you with Ric, but he didn't care, didn't notice. Because he was with her. She was blonde too, like you; she had blue eyes, like you. But she wasn't you.

_Then she told me she had a gun_

_it sounded like she'd used it once before on him_

Inside your head, you went back to the day he found you covered in blood and holding the gun. He extended his hand, which was covered in black leather gloves, and you hesitantly accepted it, getting on your feet, careful not to look towards the bed because you were still afraid that this was all a dream and any moment now you would wake up. He took the gun from you and wiped the prints off, then placed it in his pocket.

"Are you really going to take care of this?" you asked.

He started to wrap your husband's body in the sheets. You took that as a "Yes."

Now, you opened your eyes and your lips hurt from the duct tape that he had placed there so roughly a few minutes ago. You wanted to ask him another question. Just one more. _"Why don't you love me?"_ But he seemed more focused on that cell phone, waiting for the go from his boss so he could pull the trigger and end your life much like the same way you had ended your husband's. You wanted to scream, "HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?"

_Then she told me she had a gun_

_it sounded like she'd used it once before, oh man_

You did everything you could. You tried to get rid of Corinthos's sister. You tried to get rid of the brunette waitress at Kelly's because she was once linked to him. Nothing worked. Even clinging on to Ric was no longer useful. He would never care for you, not like that day he found you with your dead husband's body. But you still waited for him because you knew that one day he would come.

And you were right. He stood on the docks with you. His eyes still mirrored yours. Maybe not much had changed. You told yourself to stop looking for excuses. 

Everything had changed. 

"You shouldn't be talking to me, Faith," he said.

He called you Faith…no, no excuses.

"I just want to ask you one question," you said. "If you could go back, would you have killed me and dumped my body with my husband's?" If he had, he could have changed so much of the present. You would not be a threat to Sonny Corinthos. You would not be a threat to anyone. 

You knew he wanted to say "Yes." But he turned from you without saying anything and you saw your husband's head. You took out the gun and aimed. _Desperate times called for desperate measures._ You fired. He stumbled forward and fell into the water. You watched for a moment as the river took his body away and then he disappeared. You tossed the gun into the water and as it sank to the bottom, you looked at your hands. They were not shaking.

_Then she told me she had a gun_

_she says she wants to use it on me now_

Song: "Driven Under" by Seether


End file.
